


Origin

by anemptymargin



Series: Journey-Verse [1]
Category: Psych
Genre: M/M, Older Characters, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-21
Updated: 2011-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-21 14:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry and Lassiter fight it out of their system.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Origin

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of 2-3 “origin” pieces setting up a longer shippy piece. Super thanks go to [Missy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy) & [Gypsyjr](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsyJr/works) for their beta work and handholding. Dedicated to the Carlton to my Henry. <3

The heated argument came up out of nowhere. What had started as a quiet suggestion turned into an outright shouting match with no clear winner when Chief Vick stepped between them – sending Lassiter to his corner and Henry to her office.

“What was that about?” Juliet pushed her partner into the conference room, slamming the door behind them. “You were totally out of line there.”

“How was I out of line? He undermined my authority as head detective.” Lassiter spat back defensively, “It’s my investigation, and he has no right to tell me how to run it.”

“He wasn’t telling you how to run your investigation. He was trying to tell you that this case could benefit from some outside help…”

“I’m not working with Spencer. This case is a slam dunk, I’ve got everything ready for the DA and I’m not about to back down now because the Froot Loop has been sniffing crayons again.”

“Maybe he has a point; I mean you have to admit that the cab driver is a bit of a loose end…”

“He’s a cabbie! He has no motive, no connection, and limited physical interaction with the victim.” Lassiter slung himself into a chair, still fuming. “If the old man wants Junior sniffing around the cab he can take care of it himself, I’m not wasting my time to follow a dead end.”

“Even so, that’s no reason to talk to him like that… if Chief Vick heard what you said…”

“She didn’t.” He muttered through gritted teeth.

“Or if Henry reports you…”

“He won’t.”

“I would! You started a shouting match like a couple of… of…” She hesitated, feeling herself getting as riled up as they were. “…like an old married couple.” She finished quietly.

“You take that back, O’Hara.”

“It’s the truth.” She asserted herself, looking down at him. “You two have done nothing but argue about Shawn since he came back to the department.”

“That is not true.” Lassiter leaned forward defensively in the swivel chair. “Just last week he stole my pen.”

“He did not steal your pen, he borrowed it.”

“Not with my permission.”

Juliet let out a frustrated growl between clenched teeth. “You two need to work this out, or I will get Chief Vick involved. End of discussion.”

“Then you need to speak to him about the ramifications of insubordination. He is not the boss of me.”

“And you are not the boss of him.”

***

“Henry, we need to talk.” He’d heard that phrase before, almost always heralding the end of a relationship or Shawn getting arrested again.

“What is it, Karen? And don’t tell me it’s about that blow hard…”

“You’ve got to stand down, Henry.”

“I’m just trying to do my job. He’s the one that refuses to listen to the voice of reason.”

“Let me deal with him. If he has a problem with your judgment he can take it to me.”

Henry shifted in his chair, glancing at the closed door to the chief’s office. “Are we done here?”

“Listen to me.” Chief Vick demanded, drawing his attention back. “Lassiter’s a good cop.”

“I know he is. He’s also an ass.”

“And he respects you.” She continued, undaunted.

“He doesn’t respect anyone.”

“You’re wrong.” Vick stated simply, “And eventually he will back down enough for you to see that.”

“Right.” He stood up quickly, “I’m gonna go finish doing my job.”

“Spencer.” Her voice took on a hard tone. “You’re going to learn to work with him.”

“I respectfully disagree.” He had his hand on the door, ready to leave but knew full and well she wasn’t done with him yet.

“It’s not an option, Henry. I don’t care what it takes – if there’s one more outburst in my station you’re done.”

“You can’t be serious…” He scoffed, “He’s insubordinate and doesn’t know how to deal with authority.”

The chief cleared her throat, raising an eyebrow. “You have no authority.”

***

Two days later, the case was closed. Shawn, as usual, had been right - it turned out the cabbie wasn’t a real cab driver and was the victim’s ex-husband with one heck of a vendetta. Needless to say, Lassiter wasn’t exactly pleased with the results.

“Nobody could have ever made that connection.” He groaned, cinching his boxing gloves down tight. “Not even Spencer.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” Henry let his presence in the small gym be known, stepping up closer. “Shawn is a special case.”

“Yeah, says ‘daddy’ Spencer.” Lassiter shook his head and bumped his gloves tentatively against the heavy bag before giving it a short burst of left-right jabs. “If you didn’t have to like him you’d see it too.”

“I don’t like him.” Henry replied casually, “He’s my son and I love him – but I don’t have to like him or agree with him. The fact of the matter is that he had the information that you needed and you refused to follow a legitimate lead.”

“So, what… you came to rub it in my face?” Lassiter hit the bag again, hard enough to swing it slightly.

Henry shrugged, wrinkling his nose before unbuttoning the cuffs of his pressed white shirt. “Nah. Not my job.” He folded them back carefully to his forearm, picking up a second set of gloves that had been close to the bag. “I came to fight.”

Lassiter slugged the bag again, making it swing in a small circle. “You want to fight me?”

Henry took off his watch and badge, any loose articles, and stacked them together with his phone on the outside edge of a small boxing ring that took up most of the floor space. “O’Hara told me your therapist has you taking boxing lessons to work on your anger management issues.”

“She had no right…” He grumbled, “And I don’t have anger issues. I have a stress disorder… no thanks to your son.”

“Yeah, anyway… Karen says that if I can’t learn to ignore your flagrant disregard for authority…”

“That’s implying that you have authority… which you don’t…”

“Get in the ring so I can punch you.” Henry shook his head before finding a padded helmet identical to the one Lassiter wore.

“I’m not fighting you, Old Man.”

Henry laced his gloves tight; bumping them together several times to ensure the fit was on target. “I used to spar with guys that make you look like a little girl. I think I can take it.”

Carlton shook his head negative, grimacing. “Funny… aren’t you late for your afternoon Activia and nap?” He didn’t see the red glove until had glanced off the side of his head and sent him sprawling against the outside of the ring. “Oh, it’s on!” He huffed, pushing up on his feet fully.

“Get your ass up there; I’m not here to chat.”

He didn’t need to be told twice - they were up in the ring and exchanging increasingly volatile blows within minutes. “Come on, you want to fight - let’s do this.” Lassiter snarled, making a jab at his head and missing.

“That’s all you’ve got? Come on.” Henry teased, landing a punch to the shoulder. He grinned, catching a hard slug to the chest. “That’s it? My mother hit me harder than that.”

“I’m holding back, I’d hate to be known as the cop that beat up a retiree.”

“That’s it.” Henry sighed loudly and swung with a left – catching him square in the side of his jaw.

Lassiter bounced back with a low laugh, shaking off the blow. “Your ass is mine.”

The words slipped into grunts and groans while they traded punches – Henry clearly having the upper hand until Carlton pushed in close, holding him with quick jabs to the shoulders and sides. “Back down, Lassiter.”

“Make me.” He panted, his face already showing the exertion.

Henry tried to move his arms, but was pinned in too well – it’d take everything he had to break out. With an unexpectedly loud shout, he slammed into Carlton’s chest with his shoulder, setting him off balance just enough to take him down to the mat. Without hesitation, Henry sat across his pelvis – holding him down at both shoulders. “Enough.”

“Not even close.” Carlton struggled up against him, rocking his hips hard in an attempt to knock him off.

“Who are you fighting, Lassiter – me or every bastard that ever pissed you off?” Henry pushed down harder on the other man’s shoulders.

“Same thing.” He pushed up hard again, letting out a soft groan.

Henry nodded slowly, shifting his weight downward once more – smiling when he felt an unmistakable lump in Carlton’s slacks dig into his inner thigh. “And who’re you fucking?”

Clearly caught off guard, Lassiter stammered and licked his lips – eyes wide. “Shut your mouth, Spencer.”

“Or what? You’re not going anywhere until I let you up.” It was true, while Lassiter had him in terms of upper body strength he’d worn out fast.

Lassiter sighed in resignation. “Fine, okay. You win – I don’t want to fight anymore. Please let me up.”

Somewhat hesitant, Henry shifted his weight fully back – driving himself down against the hardness before pushing back up on his feet. “Good fight.” He smirked, unlacing his gloves.

“Fight, yeah.” Carlton nodded, leaving the ring.

There was nothing sadder than a jackass with no fight left in him. “Want to go get a beer before we go back?” Henry offered.

He shook his head, putting away his helmet and gloves. He didn’t reply until he had adjusted the knot in his tie. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What, you think you’re the first guy to get worked up over getting punched in the head?”

“Back down, Spencer.”

Henry approached him, just the slightest bit indignant. “Make me.”

“You don’t want this fight.” He turned away, unrolling his sleeves and buttoning the cuffs.

“Don’t tell me what I want.” Henry put a hand on his shoulder, turning him back.

A moment paused and quite suddenly Carlton broke, chuckling under his breath. “What is this, some kind of porno? Should I take my shirt off and show you my rippling abs and hairy chest?”

Henry smirked, shaking his head with a dulled laugh. “I don’t think so; I’ve got to get back to work soon.”

“Of course, that’s your objection.”

“Oh, was I supposed be upset?” Henry deadpanned.

Lassiter shrugged; “It is a bit uncomfortable right now. Awkward.”

“Not so bad. I’ve been in stranger situations.”

“You’re kidding?” He slipped into his jacket and changed out his sneakers before adding; “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“So…”

“Yup.” Henry nodded with the faintest hint of a smile.

“You’re…”

“Sort of.”

“Yeah.”

“Spar again tomorrow?” Henry asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I don’t think so.” Carlton shook his head, “My therapist is full of it.”

“So, no more therapeutic boxing huh?”

“I think I’ll stick to beer. Maybe fishing. Extra time at the range.”

Henry nodded and clipped his badge onto his belt. “Guess I’ll see you back at the station?”

“Of course.” Lassiter nodded, finishing his laces. When Henry hesitated at the door, he asked; “Maybe a rain check on that beer?”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.


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